


and i think you're beautiful

by jezzberry



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bookstores, College, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Romance, himchan is a troll, i still can't tag for shit?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezzberry/pseuds/jezzberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is ink all over his hands and arms, smudges on his cheeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i think you're beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [the_brownie_bunch_4](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/the_brownie_bunch_4) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  **Trigger Warning** : None  
>  **Characters and / or Pairings** : Daehyun/Youngjae  
>  **Description** : DaeJae have a morning class together and Jae always walks in late and has obviously just woken up and Dae thinks that the grumpy person who sits in front of him is the cutest thing ever.
> 
> rated t for the one f word lmao

Daehyun sees him for the first time in the middle of a dimly lit stage, standing in a pool of light with a violin tucked under his chin. The boy’s eyes are closed, delicate fingers pressed into the strings at the top of his instrument, small smile gently pulling at the corners of his lips. Daehyun doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful than the way the brown strands of the boy’s hair fall over his dark eyebrows, the way his eyelashes brush against the skin under his eyes, and the luminescent quality of his skin under the auditorium light. For a moment, Daehyun forgets that he’s here to do a quick inventory of the set items they have in the props room for the play in a few weeks. Then, the boy starts to play, and Daehyun _really_ forgets what he’s supposed to be doing. He can’t help but just stand there and gawk while the boy swiftly works through several pieces. The music is of a lower tone than Daehyun has heard from violins before, but the sound resonates beautifully in the large auditorium space, wrapping Daehyun in a warm blanket of pleasant melodies.

 

He can’t resist clapping enthusiastically at the end. The student jerks in surprise, eyes opening and searching for the perpetrator in the darkness of the theater. He looks—angry, Daehyun decides, and berates himself internally for interrupting the moment.

 

“Who’s there?” the boy asks, glaring out in the general direction of where Daehyun is standing.

 

“I—sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in. I’m so sorry, I was supposed to—um, check stuff, for the play. The one in a few weeks. I just. Saw you playing and couldn’t bear to interrupt and it was really so, so beautiful,” Daehyun explains rapidly as he shuffles into the circle of light around the instrumentalist so that the boy can see him.

 

The boy deals him a scathing look.

 

“You play the violin very nicely,” Daehyun offers, like an olive branch for peace.

 

The student’s face darkens. “It’s a viola,” he retorts curtly, and promptly packs his instrument and bow into the case. He’s down the steps of the stage and out of the auditorium before Daehyun is even able to say another word.

 

“Sorry,” Daehyun mutters into the silence of the theater once the door clicks shut. He pulls out a pen from his back pocket, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt on his left arm. The harsh theater light makes the contrast between the words all over Daehyun’s arm that much more sharp in comparison to his skin. On a new spot, to the left of the scientific name for a rabbit, Daehyun writes in big letters, _VIOLA._ It’s a habit he has, to note down anything that interests him throughout the day. Sentences, single words, quotes, the occasional picture, some numbers. Anything he thinks is beautiful.

 

.

 

Daehyun encounters Viola Boy a few days later again. He’s at his job at the used bookstore a few minutes’ walk away from campus, (a very convenient, smart location marketing-wise, in Daehyun’s opinion) slouched in a stool behind the register. He’s reading a manga book intently—although he should really start studying for his exams because finals week is inevitably approaching faster than Daehyun can keep up with—and doesn’t realize the arrival of a new customer until a stack of books is slammed onto the counter. Daehyun startles, nearly slipping off the stool, and glances up, adjusting his skewed glasses by the thick frame. There is ink all over his hand again, and when he brushes the back of it across an itch on his cheek, he leaves a smudge of dark blue ink behind.

 

Viola Boy is waiting expectantly with a credit card between his fingers and three large novels, and Daehyun hastens to slide off his seat. He places his manga book to the side, keying in his employee ID to the register, followed by the books. He’s too busy doing his job to notice the intent, fascinated gleam in Viola Boy’s eyes as he takes in the writing all over Daehyun’s left arm.

 

Daehyun’s heart is hammering wildly in his chest as he reads out the price as monotonously as he can, and he attributes it to the sudden surprise from being jolted out of his manga world.

 

“Thanks.” Viola Boy, who Daehyun can now identify as Yoo Youngjae from the credit card, takes his bag of books. Youngjae glances at the graphic novel Daehyun has been reading and snorts. Daehyun feels his face heat up in embarrassment. He’s not sure why he is so affected by the opinion of this—albeit Very Good Looking—stranger. Daehyun takes out his pen reluctantly and writes _Youngjae_ on his arm once the boy leaves. _Anything he finds beautiful._

 

Youngjae exits the bookstore, and can’t help but give Daehyun—as his name tag read—a last look through the window. He retraces the characters marring the skin of Daehyun’s arm in his mind’s eye. _Falling star, tick tock, friendship bracelet,_ and a detailed sketch of a leaf, Youngjae had made out. _A righty,_ Youngjae thinks, remembering that he hadn’t seen anything on Daehyun’s right arm. Youngjae feels a spark of interest—a fond, gentle sort of thing.

 

.

 

And these two encounters, Daehyun supposes, are the reason for the way he is currently staring fixatedly at the seat in front of him.

 

“You’re so weird,” Himchan informs him from the side. Daehyun ignores him and continues to doodle in the margins of his notebook.

 

As if fate is trying to play some sort of prank on Youngjae, (not Daehyun, because Daehyun has no problem feasting his eyes on the Very Good Looking stranger) about a month later, when the second semester starts, they end up in the same creative writing class at ten in the morning.

 

Daehyun’s not really sure why he’d taken the class, considering that nothing in his quest for an acting major had anything to do with creative writing, and he’d been planning to try and switch out or drop after the first day. However, exactly eight minutes into the start of the class, when the teacher had just finished introducing herself, the door to the classroom opened. Daehyun had instantly recognized the boy who had shuffled in as Viola Guy— _no, Youngjae_ —looking extremely tired and disgruntled, as if he’d just woken up. Youngjae had taken the first available seat he’d seen, which happened to be in front of Daehyun. It happened the next time, too, and all the times after that. Daehyun isn’t really sure if Youngjae has even realized that Daehyun is in the same class, much less that Daehyun sits right behind him. Regardless, Youngjae’s appearance is the reason that Daehyun has stayed in the class. It’s also the reason for Youngjae being upgraded to Very Cute.

 

Daehyun can’t help but be captivated by the sweatshirt-engulfed, forever-grumpy student. It’s the cutest thing, Daehyun had once proclaimed to Himchan after class was over. He had missed the secretive smile on Youngjae’s lips as he overheard. Daehyun ends up inking down _grumpy_ and _sleepy_ on the back of his hand.

 

Youngjae never manages to show up on time to class, for some reason, and Daehyun has narrowed his arrival to somewhere between three to fifteen minutes late. (He writes that on his arm, too.) The teacher had been considerably displeased at Youngjae’s tardiness for a few classes up until they turned in their first assignment. All of the teacher’s protests had ended there, and Daehyun assumes it’s because Youngjae is some sort of genius in writing. He adds that to the growing list of Reasons Why I Like Yoo Youngjae.

 

Youngjae also makes appearances at the used bookstore where Daehyun works about once a month—not that Daehyun’s counting. Daehyun has learned a lot about him through the books he buys. Favorite genre: science fiction. Second favorite genre: fantasy. Occasional cravings for: historical fiction. Does not like: manga. (Daehyun always makes sure he’s got the most ridiculous manga hidden under the counter so that he can take it out and pretend to read it when Youngjae comes in so as to elicit some sort of reaction.) At the same time, though, Daehyun’s sure he’s pretty much ruined any and all chances he could have had with Youngjae. Nevertheless, he diligently copies onto his skin the titles of the books Youngjae buys and tries to read them in his spare time.

 

Daehyun sighs forlornly and draws a heart onto the palm of his hand with a pen. It’s only morning, but Daehyun has already managed to scribble onto his wrist the name of the new coffee shop he visited and the order he made, as well as the title of two poems he wants to look up. Himchan notices the heart that Daehyun is coloring in and silently mimes sticking a finger into his mouth and hurling. Daehyun turns his attention back to the front of the classroom and takes down a few interesting things his teacher has said, this time in his notebook. He figures he’s perfectly content just staying like this, forever pining over Youngjae and never gathering the courage to do anything about it.

 

Daehyun writes _pining_ into his skin. It’s an interesting word.

 

.

 

The Incident happens on a dreary day, with clouds hanging low in the sky and moisture lingering so thickly in the air that Daehyun wonders if there’s any oxygen left at all. It’s late in the afternoon and the sky has already cried onto Earth several times in just one day. Daehyun is accompanying Himchan to his friend’s next class for lack of anything else to do. There’s a bright pink umbrella in Himchan’s hand and Daehyun is focusing on it rather than the one-sided conversation Himchan is leading. He kind of wants to read manga right now. It’s not until Daehyun looks up for a second that he notices that they’re about to cross paths with Youngjae, who is heading in the opposite direction.

 

Daehyun is trying to inconspicuously shift to Himchan’s other side, turning his head away so that Youngjae can’t see his face, when Himchan shoves him hard in the back right as they’re about to pass the other student. Daehyun yelps, stumbling forward and tripping over his own feet. The manga book he had had in his hands falls into a puddle of rainwater with a wet _plop_.

 

The body that catches him is warm, swathed in thick sweats, but Daehyun can feel the firmness of the figure underneath the clothing. Youngjae’s muscles are unexpectedly toned and his shoulders far wider than Daehyun had ever imagined. Daehyun promptly upgrades him from Very Cute to Very Sexy and resolutely tells himself that he’s doomed. Daehyun’s face is pressed right against Youngjae’s chest, and he can hear the steady heartbeat thumping against his rib cage. The arms that come around to steady him are strong and gentle. Daehyun swallows and peers up at Youngjae, anticipating the familiar expression of distaste. Instead, Youngjae looks thoroughly amused, and Daehyun can hear the way a warm, bubbling laugh rumbles in his chest. Daehyun has never before felt so comfortable and safe. But, he thinks, he’s been enjoying Youngjae’s embrace for far too long.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Daehyun begins, springing away from Youngjae. “Himchan-hyung was just fooling around and shoved me a little too hard and I ended up tripping.”

 

Youngjae leans down, picking up Daehyun’s sopping wet book from the ground and shaking off excess droplets of water. “No worries. Be careful next time,” Youngjae says and returns the book, which Daehyun grips gingerly with two fingers. Daehyun expects Youngjae to continue on his way now, but instead, Youngjae’s hand shoots out to grab Daehyun’s outstretched arm.

 

“What—”

 

“Just a sec,” Youngjae says, and pulls out a pen from the pocket of his sweatshirt. He pulls up Daehyun’s sleeve and presses the pen against Daehyun’s ink-stained skin, scrawling down ten digits. Daehyun stares at them, the way they look so _right_ on his arm, surrounded by miscellaneous words and pictures and letters. “I’ll see you later,” Youngjae says softly, tucking the pen behind his ear.

 

When Youngjae has gone and a minute has passed, Daehyun can finally gather the wits to round on Himchan. “Hyung, what the _fuck_ ,” Daehyun enunciates carefully, shame and anger boiling under the surface of his words. He tries to hide his elated grin with a hand, and leaves a smear of ink behind, again.

 

Himchan shrugs noncommittally. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> my third one?? how? and just in the nick of time too lol  
> If you like my writing, please consider leaving me a small tip on my [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/jezzberry)


End file.
